


songbirds keep singing (like they know the score)

by powertrip1000



Category: Birds of Prey (And the Fantabulous Emancipation of One Harley Quinn) (2020)
Genre: CIA Agent Dinah, F/F, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Italian Mafia, Lies, Sex, Sorry Not Sorry, Violence, ruthless mafioso helena, some lines are going to get blurred, there will be smut, they are both serving their own agenda
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-11
Updated: 2020-05-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 22:35:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,046
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24124486
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/powertrip1000/pseuds/powertrip1000
Summary: Helena is to take over the Bertinelli crime family and she has traitors in her midst. Dinah is a CIA Agent angling to settle the score with the murder of her parents.
Relationships: Helena Bertinelli/Dinah Lance
Comments: 43
Kudos: 85





	1. Prologue

Dinah tipped the flute of champagne down her throat before depositing the glass on a tray and grabbing another fresh one. 

Tonight she was observing. Merely a party attendee in a flashy dress with an eye, a singer Roman Sionis had taken a shining to. She reported to her handler and she went to her apartment. That had been the last six months of undercover work. That, and top shelf champagne. 

Tonight Sionis was throwing a ball and her job was to collect more intel on his drug trafficking operations. To see who he shook hands with and chatted to. 

“You were a hell of a singer,” a very handsome man approached her, clinking his champagne glass smoothly to hers. “What’s your name?”

“Dinah Lance,” she told him truthfully. Her civilian identity was her truth, raised on the crime-heavy streets of Gotham, Dinah Lance lost her parents (both ex-cops), skipped college to work and make ends meet, picked up bartending for the tips, and sang for fun until Sionis demanded she work for him. 

The CIA approached her when she was twenty-three, with intel on her parents death and the chance to be heroes like them. 

Now she was twenty-eight and five years of working and informing has gotten her deeper in the circles of Sionis and deeper in the CIA. 

Her life was one-night stands, half-assed friendships, and a whole lot of this ‘gangster ignorant bullshit.’ 

“Well Dinah,” the gentleman smiled -- and he was really attractive, Dinah had to admit. Tall, dark, and handsome. Groomed nicely, the right amount of cologne and hair product... “I’m Pino. Pino Bertinelli.” 

She raised her brow in recognition. Everyone in Gotham knew the Bertinellis. They ran crime. They were the crime. And if Pino was here, that meant Sionis was doing business with them. 

“Bertinelli,” Dinah smiled, “dangerous.” 

He smirked, “you look like you can handle danger. Any date tonight?”

Dinah sipped her champagne, turning her attention away from him coyly, “why Mr. Bertinelli, awful charming I see. My mama warned me not to get mixed up with the mob though.”

Pino’s smile grew, “Well Ms. Lance… You do work for Sionis, don’t you?”

\--

In the bathroom stall she dialed the number in her phone saved as ‘Tony’s Pizza.’ 

“Tony’s pizza, how can I help you?” A male voice spoke. 

“Special 87,” she whispered. 

The call was forwarded and a terse, “Montoya” answered. 

“At this party, Pino Bertinelli just asked me out. After the party at his place with some friends.” 

“Activate your tracker, and I’ll have a surveillance team on ya.”

“Over.” 

\--

The after party at Pino’s had catered food and more champagne. Dinah slowed down her alcohol a little bit, doing her best to quietly observe the surroundings as Pino bragged on and on about his beach house. 

Around 2 in the morning there was some commotion and a few large, muscled men packing guns walked in. 

Pino stopped his story short and stood up in attention. 

Dinah stiffened and the music stopped… clearly someone very important was here and the laughter turned to tense fear. 

She wasn’t sure who she was expecting, but it most definitely was not her. 

Luscious black hair cropped by her chin, a light smokey eye highlighting memorable dark irises, tall in only light blue jeans, simple in a navy hoodie, and every bit as beautiful as the day she remembered her. 

“Pino.” The woman greeted, walking forward with her -- bodyguards? -- entourage. 

“Helena, what are you doing here? What’s going on?”

Helena Bertinelli. 

The name was infamous and aligned with so many others in the streets. Crossbow Killer. Italian Assassin. 

Huntress. 

“It’s you,” Dinah said, unable to keep that revelation to herself. Her delivery was almost accusatory and all eyes turned to her. Dinah caught herself, hoping her faux pas would be ignored. 

“You know my sister?” Pino turned to her, still looking confused. 

The same way she recognized Helena, Helena recognized her instantly. 

Her face grim, she stepped forward to her brother and his friends, eyeing Dinah up from head to toe and towering over them. Though Pino was actually an inch taller than his tall sister, Dinah saw his shoulders submissively dip to his sister’s presence. 

“Got a tip that Galante sent a guy this way,” Helena told her brother, eyes still on Dinah for a beat before turning back to him. 

“Fuck.”

“I told you to ease up on these parties.”

Pino huffed. “Alright. Let’s call it a night I guess.” 

“What--” Dinah started to say, but instead found Helena Bertinelli tugging her by the wrist and away from her brother. 

Dinah followed her outside, where on the balcony Helena closed the door for privacy and turned to her with crossed arms. 

“What are you doing here?”

“You’re the Huntress. You. Helena Bertinelli.” 

“Answer the question.”

Dinah put her hands on her hips and leaned back, “okay, fine. I ran into your brother at Sionis’s party tonight. Agreed to this, whatever this is. Date I guess?”

Helena stuffed her hands into the front pocket of her hoodie looking pissed off, “you’re on a date with my brother?”

“I was tipsy when I agreed, okay? And is that jealousy because we only kissed once.”

Helena seems to fluster slightly at the mention before hissing, “no one can know about that attempt on my life that night!”

Dinah was starting to see that night in a different way. She had seen some men trying to stuff this woman in a van, and unable to walk away she had kicked the shit out of them and taken the woman to sleep the drugs off in her apartment a few blocks over. 

There had been some conversation as the woman sobered, evasive poetry… and a kiss so tender before she fell asleep, that when the woman was gone in the morning she was actually disappointed. 

That had been three months ago. 

“Listen,” Helena pleaded, hands on Dinah’s shoulders as she whispered with urgency. “Someone tried to kidnap me that night. Meaning I was betrayed. I still don’t know who it was or why... and I can’t let it get out that I’m onto them.” 

Dinah crossed her arms, “well what happened to those two guys I fought? They would have reported back to whoever that I helped you...”

“No I…” Helena looked at the glass, remembering they could be seen. Dinah followed her gaze and noticed Pino observing them with interest. 

“Just… tell your brother we have a history or something,” Dinah looked back at her and offered. “Had a date… kissed. Done.” 

Helena looked back at her with a blush, something a known killer shouldn't have, before gently saying, “I suppose that’s the truth, people asked where I was that night I told them I slept over with someone… listen, I took care of those guys. You don’t have to worry about being involved.” 

Dinah felt the weight of those hands on her shoulders and saw the flash in Helena’s brown eyes at ‘took care.’ 

“You killed them,” Dinah asked quietly, “didn’t you… how? Who were they?”

“Better you don’t know, Dinah.”

Dinah raised her brows in surprise, “you know my name?”

“Of course.” Helena dropped her arms now and stuffed them in her sweater’s front pocket, “like you said. You helped me, and until I took care of it I kept my eye on you to make sure you were safe.”

“Unbelievable,” Dinah shook her head, still processing everything. “You are Helena Bertinelli.”

Helena gestured to her, “come on.” 

Dinah followed her back into the room, giving a brief smile to Pino. 

“I better get home… thanks for the invite, Pino.” 

“How do you guys know each other?” He asked, more towards his sister. “Not like you to have private conversations, sis.”

“I…” Helena hesitated, “well…”

“We slept together, and I had no clue she was a Bertinelli,” Dinah told him point blank, not hiding her annoyance. She grabbed her coat and purse from the couch she had been sitting on. “Bye, Helena.” 

Helena was both glaring at her for saying that and blushing at her escalation from kiss to sex. 

Pino’s eyes looked to his sister with shocked amusement as he said, “B-Bye, Dinah.” 

Dinah was out of the apartment and walking to the elevator but the door was stopped by a hand and Helena’s furious face. 

“Did you need to say that?” She hissed, trying to keep her voice low to a whisper. It was clear she wanted to yell. 

“You did sleep on my bed with me, didn’t you?”

“The way you phrased it,” Helena stepped into the elevator with her, “suggestive much? What happened to a date and kiss?”

“Please. The way you were holding my shoulders? He was not going to buy that.” 

“Why would he need to buy that?”

“Why was your brother at Roman Sionis’s party?”

“They’re buddies.” 

“And why did I overhear Sionis asking him about your operations?”

“You are accusing my brother, Dinah?”

“I’m saying if you don’t know who tried to kill you then don’t fucking accuse me for making sure no one tries to kill me. I don’t trust anyone -- especially mobsters. Better to be safe.” 

Dinah exited the elevator the second the doors dinged and was outside on the cool night, lighting her cigarette by the curb. 

“This causes a small complication for me.”

“Fuck,” Dinah’s heart gives out, having assumed Helena was left in the elevators. She grits her teeth and turns her body, exhaling her smoke in Helena’s face. 

Helena scowls at her, “really.”

Shrugging, Dinah raises her arm to hail a cab, watching one slow down in front of her. 

“Bye, Helena.”

“I’ll be visiting you tomorrow,” Helena watches her open the car door. “Goodnight.” 

“Please don’t. I forgive you for never leaving your number okay?” 

“You can’t announce to a room of people you’ve slept with me and think you’re safe now,” Helena cautions her. “I will see you tomorrow.”

Dinah’s answer is stepping out the remainder of her cigarette and shutting the door angrily before giving the cab driver her address. 

It is only later that she calls back to Montoya, updating her. 

“I have an in to the Bertinelli family.” She says after Special 87. 

“Pino?”

“No… his sister.” 

“You met Helena Bertinelli?”

“That’s the one.” 

“Hope you know what you’re doing Lance. They call her Crossbow Killer for a reason.” 

“The Huntress. I know.” Dinah corrects, very aware of who she is and why she had those nicknames.

The woman she had saved three months ago and kissed may have been shy and sweet, but Helena Bertinelli was a known ruthless mobster with a low tolerance for mercy. 

This was a dangerous game she was going to play, but thinking of her parents gave Dinah no other option but to roll the dice. 

“She said she’ll make contact tomorrow. I’ll be in touch.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Here,” Alfano, Helena’s bodyguard and right hand man, tossed her an off-white towel.

“Mh. Thanks.” She patted it at her bloodied hands, scowling at the messiness this time. 

Behind her, Kurtis Card’s dead body was being doused in accelerator fluid. 

Kurtis was Roman Sionis’s chauffeur. He had eventually given up his boss, Sionis, for stealing some of their money bags and trying to pin it on some junkies. Roman Sionis was making a power play for the Bertinelli turf and it had Helena and her father high on edge. Even though his planning was total shit, the man was the unpredictable kind of psycho. 

“That guy spilled the beans a lot sooner than I thought he would,” Alfano glanced back, wincing as the bloodless body got lit on fire by some of their lackeys. 

“Fucking Sionis,” Helena said, leaving the warehouse with Alfano beside her, his hands in his pockets. They got in the back of a Toyota Prius where Alfano’s younger brother, Giovanni, was on the phone. Giovanni was all about the environment. He put his phone down when they got buckled in, and looked back at them with a smile. 

“Let’s grab lunch,” Alfano suggested. “I’m starving. Watching Helena torture that asshole really works up an appetite.” 

“Jeez Helena,” Giovanni’s smile dropped and he looked pale when he realised how much blood had gotten from her hands onto the towel. “That’s nasty.”

She rolled her eyes at him and looked in the car for where they kept the sanitizing wipes. 

“Was that dad?” She asked him as he started the car and pulled out of the warehouse. She found the wipes and set to scrubbing her hands with them. 

“Yep, Patri wants us at the house, so no lunch yet.” Giovanni confirmed. Patri is what everyone called Helena’s father, Franco, as head of the mob family. 

“And?” 

“He didn’t say. Just said he wants to meet us, back at the mansion. Said it was urgent.” 

“Alright,” Helena bit her lip, fully aware of her father’s need for this meeting. It made her nervous. And angry. 

They drove and Helena let her eyes rest for the twenty minutes it took as Alfano convinced Gio to stop in a drive through for a donut. 

Back at her family mansion, they exited the car and found Franco where he usually was -- out in the garden playing with the twins. The boys were Helena’s nephews, Enzo and Fausto. Now seven, they were always running around with their soccer ball. 

Their father had been Helena’s now deceased older brother, Santo, and Helena had never been particularly close to him. It was one of the reasons she kept her distance from his sons, too. Out of respect. 

Respect for the fact that he hated the mafia. 

“Carry on boys! I’ll be back!” Franco bid them goodbye before turning to his daughter and her two closest allies. 

“Inside?” Helena asked him, watching the boys laugh with regret. The feelings seeing them stirred up in her were impalpable and she hated it. She tore her eyes away, disgusted with herself 

“Let’s go,” he led them inside to his study. 

With Alfano and Giovanni taking spots on the couch in Franco’s familiar study, Helena remained standing and watched her father fiddle with his coffee machine as he started making them all a cup. She never liked to sit in his office. His office was where she got her missions and then left. This place had not been a home to her or felt like one for such a long time that coming back always unsettled her. Sitting made it worse. 

“So?” She impatiently asked her father. 

“You tell me first,” Franco looked back at her, a grin on his face. She never grinned back anymore. 

“He gave up Sionis’s schedule,” she shrugged. 

“Mhm. Good job.” 

She swallowed the bile in her throat and bit the bullet. “Listen, Babbo, I know Pino told you--”

“You know,” Franco cut her off in that infuriating way he always did, “ I always wondered why you never gave Anna another chance.”

He poured the now brewed coffee into a couple of mugs and handed two off to Alfano and Giovanni, both knowing better than to get involved. 

“Thanks boss,” Alfano accepted his coffee while Giovanni took a quick sip and sighed. 

“You always make the best, boss.” 

“New blend, Caribbean,” Franco boasted proudly. “Don’t tell Maria it isn’t Italian or else.” 

They chuckle and Helena glared at the smirk she saw on Giovanni’s lips. When he saw her glare his smirk became larger. 

“Anna was unfaithful to me,” Helena reminded him. 

“Maybe she changed,” Franco poured two more cups, one for her and one for himself. “She keeps asking about you.” 

“I don’t care for that kind of nonsense, Babbo.” 

“We all need someone to come home to,” Franco cut her off again, now pushing a coffee out for his daughter to take. “And I advise against keeping secret girlfriends -- you never know what they will tell to who.” 

Reluctantly she reached for the mug he offered, and while the towel got most of the blood off, she remembered how easily her hands had taken a life hardly an hour ago. 

Helena could see her father’s concern that his daughter did nothing but kill people, but he should have thought of that before starting wars she was forced to finish. 

“Anna understands the life,” Franco said to her, sipping his own coffee. “She would make you a good partner.”

“I don’t want a partner,” Helena begged her father. 

“You slept with a woman and you lied to her about being a Bertinelli.”

Fucking Pino. 

“Pino should mind his own business.”

“Pino didn’t need to tell me. I knew about her from before because I know you’ve killed for this woman… kept an eye on her. I never knew why, until now.”

Helena felt her blood boil. Her father had spied on her, had people tail her to have noticed she had killed people he never asked her to. People who were stalking Dinah with intent to harm her and ask her why she had saved Helena Bertinelli from their abduction. People she still had no idea worked for who. 

She could not admit to her father that Dinah saved her from an abduction and she had simply been repaying the favour by saving her life. Letting him think she had feelings for the woman was the lesser of two evils.

“Tell me about her, this woman that has my daughter willing to kill for her.” 

“She’s a singer for Sionis,” Helena finally told her father, keeping up the ‘I had sex with her’ charade, “I will go to the club tonight to see her. Sionis doesn’t know we are onto him.”

“Ask this woman to be our spy,” Franco challenged his daughter, “see if she feels loyal to you the way you to her and I will allow you to be with her. Otherwise…”

‘Otherwise.’ Helena didn’t like otherwise. ‘Otherwise’ meant Franco might have Dinah killed and make it look like a mugging. ‘Otherwise’ meant Anna. Fucking Anna. 

“Yes father,” She agreed. They sipped their coffee in silence and before they left to go and eat some food. Helena saw her mother from afar, watering some of her flowers with a smile. 

She paused for a moment considering greeting her, but then left without doing so. She would see her mother for Sunday church and lunch. That was enough. 

\--

She was greeted by Roman Sionis at the black mask that night, taken to his private VIP booth. He is incredibly boring with his tale of buying the right yacht. 

“When is Dinah singing?” She finally asked him when he shut up long enough to sip some of his martini.

“You know my songbird?” he raised a brow at her, looking very surprised. 

Helena shrugged, trying to play it cool, “I came to see her. I think we’re dating, we have to discuss it.” 

She watched as his mouth set into a thoughtful grimace -- he even looked rather upset and Helena pretended not to notice, giving a fake smile. “She’s so talented, isn’t she?”

“Yes she is,” his voice is strained. Coughing once to clear this throat, he gestured to the stage, “there she is now.” 

The lights are dimmed down and a soft piano starts to play. Helena is transfixed as Dinah Lance makes the stage her throne in a shiny gold dress with a slit right up her thigh. 

She was enraptured, unable to look away as Dinah’s singing reached her ears like a caress. It had been so long since Helena felt anything stir in her heart that wasn’t linked to rage. 

“She’s beautiful isn’t she? My songbird,” Roman disrupted Helena’s appreciation as the audience cheered and applauded. That was how Helena realized she had been silently appreciating Dinah for her full set of songs. 

Helena agreed, unable to lie, “she is.” 

\--

“You have a visitor, Ms. Lance.”

Dinah felt a disgusting chill up her spine from the voice. Sionis rarely came into her dressing room. He was creepy and dangerous, but she was also quite certain he was gay. Still, she never appreciated the times he had her alone. 

“Oh yeah?” She played dumb even though she had seen him and Helena Bertinelli in his priavte booth. 

“Yes. Helena Bertinelli tells me you’re dating her?” 

Dinah cursed the brunette in her head but leveled Roman with a forced smile, “yes. It’s very new.” 

“Hm…” Roman walked forward and tucked some of her hair to the side. She gripped her hand into a fist by her side, feeling her nails dig in. “Ms. Bertinelli thinks you’re beautiful. I’ve never known the infamous Crossbow Killer to be so... “

Dinah waited -- Roman loved his dramatic pauses. 

“Smitten.”

He dropped her lock of hair and lifted her chin up with his fingertips. 

“I want you to spy on her for me. Get her wrapped around your pretty little finger, find out about her work and report to me. Got it?”

His delivery is rhetorical, and Dinah knew that if anyone else was in her shoes and didn’t have CIA training, they would shit themselves. 

She nodded. 

“Good. You would never betray me, would you?”

“No, Roman. Never.” 

“Yes, you would never. You’re mine,” Roman let go of her chin and his smile turned from deadly to cheerful. “Excellent. Have a nice night with your girlfriend.” 

He was gone and Dinah closed her eyes in relief, wanting to wash her chin where he had touched it - even with his signature leather gloves, she was repulsed. 

She changed out of her dress and hung it up, getting into her jeans and a red crop top. Her purse and leather jacket were the final touches, and knowing Helena followed up on her promise to come and see her, Dinah even fixed her makeup a touch. 

She exited the club out back where her Jaguar was parked in the alley, and sure enough Helena Bertinelli was there in a long black coat with her hands deep in the pockets. . 

“Look, our three month anniversary,” Dinah tossed her purse into the backseat. “You shouldn’t have.” 

Helena pushed off the bricks by the building’s back door and stepped closer to her, “very funny.”

“So babe,” Dinah emphasised the word with a bite, “so romantic of you to bring me where we first met.”

A light blush glowed on Helena’s skin, illuminated by the light from the club’s backdoor. 

“Shut up,” Helena grit out, “we need to talk.” 

Dinah stepped closer to her, pleased to see Helena’s eyes dip along her neck in appreciation before darting awkwardly to her car. 

“Yeah we do,” Dinah circled her arms around Helana’s neck and slowly leaned in to kiss her cheek. Helena’s breath hitched and she chuckled. “Sionis is watching us. Creep ‘s apartment is up there.”

Helena’s skin was warm and Dinah locked eyes with her before the memory of their shared kiss whispered to her brain. Helena was watching her lips, and Dinah felt her own cheeks heat up this time. 

“Oh...” Helena hesitated, her voice kind as she spoke, “why are you telling me that?”

“Maybe if I have to choose sides,” Dinah observed her, leaning in closer until she could feel Helena’s breath on her lips. “I’d rather choose the girl that I like to kiss than the madman that thinks I belong to him.” 

Helena leaned into the kiss Dinah gave her, and Dinah indulged them for a few wonderful seconds before leaning away with her hands against Helena’s shoulders and a smirk upon her lips. “Can I drive you somewhere?”

\--

Dinah munched on her fries and favourite milkshake, having already inhaled her burger. 

“I don’t eat before I sing, nerves and that dress -- too tight,” she explained, amused with Helena’s expression of awe as she watched Dinah gobble her enormous food order. Large size everything. 

“You were amazing,” Helena complimented her, legs sprawled out in the booth with her back to the wall so she could watch people walk by them. 

Dinah’s CIA training taught the optimal places to sit in establishments, Helena clearly had similar ideas. The mafia were clever -- there was a reason it was hard to get evidence on them. 

“So,” Dinah wiped her mouth with a napkin, “why did you tell Sionis you were my girlfriend? Why does he want me to spy on you?” 

Helena looked taken aback, “what - you’re serious? You know who I am.”

“Yeah. Helena Bertinelli. Crossbow killer.” 

Helena frowned, “I fucking hate that name. It’s Huntress.” 

Dinah laughed, “you serious? Okay, Huntress.”

“Stop that.” 

“Stop what?”

“That… that flirting tone.” 

Dinah just smiled and took a long sip of her vanilla milkshake. 

“Fine,” Helena crossed her arms and took a quick glance before leaning forward. “Announcing you had sex with me to my brother gave him the bright idea to tell my dad about it. My dad thinks I’m in love with you and asked me to get you to spy on Sionis for us to test your loyalty to me. If you aren’t loyal… he wants… you know?”

Dinah’s smile dropped a notch. Franco Bertinelli wanted her dead if she didn’t play ball. 

“Well,” She put her milkshake down, “at least thanks for letting me eat before you told me that. So. Your dad wants me to spy on Sionis, Sionis wants me to spy on you… honestly, what the fuck. How does me telling your brother we had sex mean your dad think’s we’re together?”

“Because when I killed those men who tried to take me, he had someone tailing me. They don’t know about you saving me, they think I was taking out a problem for you.”

“The fuck?”

“We need to pretend to be together for now,” Helena suggested, ignoring Dinah’s confusion, “figure out how to play this. I’ll be taking SIonis out soon and then when he’s dead and no longer a threat to you, we can break up or whatever.” 

“Oh?” Dinah turned the flirtatious tone back on, “and why do you want to help me, hmm?”

Helena growled, “fuck off I’m serious.” 

“So am I,” Dinah cackled. “Okay then.” 

“Okay?” Helena looked relieved that Dinah had agreed. 

“Yes, okay,” Dinah ignored the sense of danger and nerves in her stomach. This meant going deeper under cover, and she was ready. She had to be. 

“Great. We start with Sunday. My family attends church and then we have lunch.” 

“You want to take me to church for our first fake date?” Dinah stood up, leaving some cash for the meal and signalling the waiter over . 

Helena rolled her eyes and stood up with her, “Just come by for lunch. I’ll text you the address.”

“Fine,” Dinah said back, leading the way out the diner and to her car parked in front, “but only if you kiss me first -- we don’t know who could be watching.” 

She enjoyed watching Helena’s cheeks glow with that redness from embarrassment. 

“You can’t be serious,” Helena mumbled. 

“Hey. I’m the one who is endangering her life by being your fake girlfriend -- apparently if anyone finds out I’m dead.”

“Should have never opened your big mouth then,” Helena smirked at her. “Hey… how are you so okay with this?”

“Maybe I think your kisses are worth it.” 

“I’m serious.”

Dinah chucked her purse into her back seat and looked back up at Helena’s serious gaze. 

“What choice do I have, after I opened up my big mouth, right?”

“Right.” Helena still looked reluctant to believe her. “But--”

Dinah took that moment to grab her by her coat’s lapels and tug her into a kiss. It shut Helena up and when they broke apart she was pleased to see Helena speechless. 

“At least we get some fun out of this,” Dinah opened her car door and gave Helena a wink as she revved her engine. “See you Sunday, babe.” 

\--

Helena got back to her apartment, chucking her keys into the tray by her door and locking the padlock from inside. She lifted a hand to her lips, reminiscing the two kisses she had gotten from Dinah. Soft and promising… electrifying. 

Had Dinah been implying they would be hooking up from this situation when she mentioned fun, or was she teasing her? It was hard to tell. 

Helena kind of hoped more kisses would be on the table. 

She hung up her woolen coat and walked further into her apartment, but paused when she realised there was a presence in her apartment. She tiptoed to her living room and saw the outline of a shadow sitting on her couch. Ready to make her attack, she was about to roll to her closest hidden knife and throw it until she recognized who was there. 

“Anna?”

Anna, daughter of Stefano Mandragora. Her ex-girlfriend. 

“Helena,” Anna stood up, her long dark hair falling in waves on her back. She was an Italian with a darker skin tone and incredibly gorgeous. The Mandragora family was at peace with them, friendly. Anna had been with her for two years, and while Helena had never loved her… she had stayed with her. Until she couldn’t anymore. 

“I heard a rumour that you have a girlfriend,” Anna walked up to her, arms crossed and eyes fierce. “But that can’t be true, you told me you didn’t want one.”

“Anna,” Helena cursed her luck, “go home.”

“No,” Anna shoved her, “you are declaring war, Helena. You don’t want war with my family, do you?”

“I am not declaring war!” Helena yelled, exasperated, “you are crazy as ever.” 

“Crazy? I was with you for two years -- we were each other’s first everything! And you casted me aside, said you could never love. How do you think I feel hearing from my father of all people that you have a girlfriend!”

Helena closed her eyes in fury. Did her father really need to be telling people that already?, 

“Anna, how deranged can you be? We dated and it was painful for the both of us. You cheated on me multiple times. I put us out of our misery.”

“I only cheated because you never cared about me! You ruined me!”

“Get out Anna, seriously,” Helena pleaded, unlocking her door and opening it. “And never come back.” 

“I will kill her, whoever she is!” Anna screamed on her way out, finger digging in warning to Helena’s chest before she left. 

Helena slammed the door and locked it again, sighing. Fucking Anna. 

\--

“Special 87,” Dinah held her phone to her ear, removing her earrings. 

“Montoya.” 

Dinah looked at her reflection as she spoke, pausing. 

“Lance, you there?”

“Uh yeah, sorry,” Dinah cleared her throat. “So, she came to see me.”

“And?”

“Sionis wants me to spy on her, she wants me to spy on Sionis.” 

“Huh…”

Dinah doesn’t tell Renee the other part, about Helena suggesting they pretend to be girlfriends. About how she saved Helena from an unknown enemy. As far as Renee knew, Helena had asked her out and they had gone on some dates. 

“She invited me to meet her family for Sunday lunch.” 

“Shit. You slept with her?”

Dinah can’t unsee the image after Renee mentioned it, picturing Helena in bed with those soft lips trailing her neck…

“Yeah,” her voice croaked out as she lied. 

“Damn,” Renee chuckled, “be careful. Your country thanks you for your, you know, service. And servicing.” 

“Fuck off,” Dinah clicked the phone. Why did she omit the truth from Renee? She didn’t know why but Dinah had difficulty sleeping that night and kept thinking of Helena breath hitching when they kissed.


	3. Chapter 3

Stefano Mandragora was a chainsmoker and Helena hated meetings with him, hated the second hand poison of his habit and drawn-out way of talking. 

“Just make this one discreet,” Stefano slid over the agreed payment, fifty thousand in bills. “He’s my nephew.” 

Alfano grabbed the money and quickly counted it before giving Helena a nod. 

“I’ll let you know when it’s done,” she was about to leave his office but he called out to stop her. 

“One more thing.”

She closed her eyes in irritation. It wasn’t enough that she was going to assassinate his nephew and make it look like an accident so the wife could claim life insurance? An idiot nephew who had been giving intel to Sionis on some of Mandragora’s heroin movement. 

“Yes, Mr. Mandragora?”

“Why you no take my daughter back?”

She turned around quickly at that, and tried to be as non-temperamental as possible. Fucking Anna. 

“She cheated. She cheated on me.” 

“That was over a year ago now... She’s got a lot of money, Helena. You could be  _ my  _ family. Family business would take us very far and even if you don’t love her I know you have what it takes to see things through,” he was already lighting another cigarette before snuffing out the other in his overflowing ashtray. 

Helena shrugged impassively, “I have a girlfriend, and I do not cheat.”

At least this cover with Dinah was buying her some time from having to deal with Anna’s schemes of getting them back together. Anna was seriously psychotic with the way she had broken into Helena’s apartment. She needed to make sure that Anna didn’t try anything and jeopardize her play on Sionis. 

He snorted, “So I heard. She was upset about it, throwing a tantrum. She’s my daughter, I want her to have what she wants. And she wants you.” 

“Sir,” Helena stepped forward, letting the Huntress come out, “I respect you. We will continue doing business together -- I even give you the family discount. But understand that Anna and I will never happen again, I do not tolerate being cheated on, personally or professionally.” 

Mandragora observed her, taking her words seriously, and exhaled a huge plume of smoke that reached her face. She held his gaze without flinching.

“Fine,” he stood up, the roundness of his belly more visible now that this large desk didn’t cover it. “But there must be something this other girl is offering you. I heard she works for Sionis.” 

Helena cursed in her mind but tried to maintain her cool. So Mandragora knew who Dinah was. “A singer.”

“Anna can sing,” Mandragora’s smile was sinister and Helena knew he was testing to see if she could be persuaded now that he felt he understood her reason for being with Dinah. 

“ _ Anna _ threatened to kill my girlfriend,” Helena added, remembering Anna’s visit a few days back. “If anything happens to her, I’ll be taking that threat into account in how I react.” 

If he was going to let her know he was watching her, she was going to let him know to tread careful too. 

Just another Sunday. 

“You are your father’s daughter, as she is mine.” Stefano finally said, a small admiration in his voice. “Actually, no, you are far more ruthless than your father ever was. He never did the dirty work himself, you know.” 

Helena kept her clenched fists in the deep pockets of her coat. 

“Alfano will let your consigliere know when I’ve dealt with your nephew.” 

“Fine. Good day, young Ms. Bertinelli. Be careful.” 

Once out of his office, Helena and Alfano walked out the familiar front doors of the Mandragora mansion and towards their parked Prius where Giovanni was scrolling through his phone. Alfano was always with her, and Giovanni had never had the stomach for the more serious side of things. 

“Helena!” A voice called out to her before she could enter the car and leave, and she rolled her eyes before facing the owner. 

Fucking Anna. She glared at her troublesome ex-girlfriend. 

Anna was wearing her pajamas since it was around six in the morning, closing a robe around her body to fight the chill. 

“What did you and my dad talk about?” 

“I told your dad about your threat,” Helena cut right to the chase, “so back off. There is not going to be any war -- I’m doing a job for him.” 

Anna scowled back at her, “listen, you know I can overreact--”

“Overreact? Anna, you broke into my home,” Helena hissed under her breath at her, “and  _ threatened  _ me..” 

“I threatened your girlfriend, not you.” 

“Same thing. You threatened to start war.” 

“Look,” Anna hissed back at her, “my chauffeur is dead okay? We had to let her go.”

“What does that matter to me?”

“Because she’s not in the picture anymore!” 

“You didn’t just fuck your driver, you fucked your hairdresser and your Itlalian tutor!” 

“Those women meant nothing to me, mi amore,” Anna’s voice was much sweeter now. “Please give us one more chance.”

“ _ Anna _ . It is not happening. Stop embarrassing yourself, any connection I have to you or your family going forward is strictly business.”

Helena turned on her heel and got into the Prius, ignoring the curious eyes from Alfano and Giovanni who had overheard every word. Anna stormed back inside looking furious, a guttural scream of frustration from her throat, and Helena closed her eyes to rest before 8 a.m. mass. 

Saturday nights it was common for them to pull an all nighter, there was always a lot to do and soon it would be time for church. Her night had been spent observing some shipments by the docks, paying off some night cops, collecting some fees, and brutally slitting the throat of snitch. 

Giovanni went through a drive-thru, getting them coffee and himself a few donuts. Their Sunday post-crime and pre-church routine. 

At seven-thirty in the morning they pulled up to Holy Rosary Church, a place she had been attending since she could remember. The Church her grandparents and parents wed in, the church her grandparents had their funeral and service. The church where she last saw her brother Santo’s face. Last time she had seen him alive it was during morning mass mumbling about Father Allesandro’s toupe, and then the next time she saw him it was his embalmed body in a bronze casket days after. 

As they parked in the lot, Father Allesandro was waving. 

Helena took the envelope of cash Alfano had counted their cut from Mandragora in, and removed a couple thousand dollars from the 50 large inside. Ten would go to Alfano, ten to Giovanni, and the remaining thirty were hers. 

“Miss Bertinelli,” Father Allesandro was cheery and energetic for a man who celebrated his seventy-first birthday. “God bless!”

“Father,” she gave him a short smile. “God bless.” 

He turned his eyes to the two brothers, “The Russi brothers! When are you getting married, Alfano!” 

Alfano and Giovanni chuckled and Helena rolled her eyes before going inside. Alfano and Giovanni took their turns in confession with Father Allesandro, they were always very quick. Helena made her cash donation in the box with a quick prayer and then took her turn. 

She closed herself in the confessional, lifting her hands in solemn prayer after making the sign of a cross. 

“Bless me father for I have sinned, my last confession was one week ago and these are my sins...”

Their routine had cemented over the years, but every time she heard Father Allesandro breathing she would feel the shame of her actions weigh. If only because it made her think of Santo and how much more she had to do to avenge him. 

“I have sinned with lust for another, greed for power, violence to other persons, and anger for my actions.” 

She had kissed Dinah and craved more, strategized removing Sionis and taking down his empire, killed a mere five hours ago, and felt too ashamed to greet her mother. 

“My child, I absolve thee from thy sins in the name of the Father and of the Son and of the Holy Spirit.” She could hear the movement of his fabric and he made the sign of a cross and Helena waited until she could hear him leaving before she exited. 

“Helena.”

It was her mother who greeted her as she exited the confessional and Helena gave her a tight smile. 

In stern Sicillian, her mother scolded her, “you’re getting thin! Are you not sleeping well?”

Helena allowed her mother to fuss over her appearance and comb at her until the clock chimed loudly as it struck eight in the morning and Helena followed her mother to sit in the front pews near her family. She sat down next to a sleepy Pino and snickered as an older sister would when he dozed off. 

Father Allesandro was preaching away an hour later when Pino woke up and whispered in her ear. 

“Heard Dinah is coming to lunch from dad... What’s that about?” 

Helena turned her head slightly to give him a glare, “because you had to open your mouth and tell Babbo about her.” 

“She’s hot,” Pino shrugged, “how come you never told her you’re a Bertinelli?”

“I don’t use our family name to get laid, Pino,” she told him off. “And you shouldn’t either. You can’t trust anyone that wants your favour because of your name.” 

“Your girlfriend agreed to leave that party with me, your logic indicates you can’t trust  _ her  _ sis.” 

Helena smirked at her brother -- he was clever, but he still needed to think more creatively. 

“I got her right where I want her, Pino.”

“What do you mean?” He sounded interested, but she ignored him. “Fuck you Helena.” 

\--

Helena yawned from the front steps of her mansion. Inside her family was already digging into their traditional lunch after morning mass, and while she was starving to take some bites from the food her mother always arranged, Dinah was late. 

Fifteen minutes after the agreed time, a familiar Jaguar rolled through the electronic gate and parked by some other cars. 

Dinah stepped out and Helena was surprised at how…  _ nice _ the blonde looked. 

Dinah’s hair was loose and long with the right side pulled back in neat braids, she had a gold nose ring piercing her septum and gold studs in her ears. She had donned a pale pink summer dress that covered up her arms and cut at her knees, and paired it with white heeled boots and some nice bracelets and rings… she was a vision of beauty. 

“Helena.” 

Helena realised her mouth was open and Dinah was smirking about it. She stood to attention in her jeans and dark purple long-sleeve, feeling underdressed next to Dinah. 

“Are you late because you had to try on fifty outfits?” 

Her tease was met with a smirk as Dinah stepped forward into her personal space. “I look good though, right? Just the way you’d want a girl to meet your parents considering the eyes you’re giving me...” 

Helena felt the blush creeping up her skin as lips pressed into her own and she felt Dinah’s smirk grow against her. 

“Are you going to kiss me every single time?” She asked quietly, not complaining but curious. 

“Your brother’s right behind you,” Dinah whispered as an explanation. 

“You look really nice but jeans would have been fine,” Helena told Dinah, not appreciating how much that kiss and smile were causing butterflies in her stomach. 

“Then you should have told me that,  _ Huntress _ .” 

Dinah kissed her cheek once more for good measure, and then tugged her by the arm into the open doors of the mansion. Sure enough, Pino was observing them with a glass of orange juice in his hand.

“Nice to see you again, Dinah,” He stepped confidently forward and offered a handshake, “you look beautiful and no I am not flirting, just saying.” 

His tone was flirtatious nonetheless, and Dinah chuckled. She recognised the signs of a brother trying to annoy his sister. 

“Sorry it didn’t work out,” She shook his hand, “no hard feelings?”

“No hard feelings,” he promised with a wink. 

“Let’s eat,” Helena walked towards the dining room where a long table that could fit twenty had her extended family talking loudly and grabbing for food. 

She led Dinah to a spot where there were two empty chairs waiting for them, and as Dinah sat down they both realised the chatter had stopped and eyes were glued to them. 

“You’re black -- she’s black!” Helena’s uncle Luca pointed out. “Helena she’s a  _ nera _ !”

Dinah was a trained CIA agent and all, but she was fucking offended and the shock on her face showed it.  _ Did he just call her the N word in Italian or something? _

“Say anything like that again Uncle Luca, I dare you,” Helena leaned forward on the table, her eyes turning a scary menace as they focused on her uncle. 

“I’m sorry,” Luca apologized profusely, sputtering, “I didn’t mean anything about it, just saying!”

Helena huffed and sat down, an uncomfortable silence taking over the table. 

Dinah felt the apprehension, and if this was any other situation where her life wasn’t in question she may have left it at that. 

“It’s okay Helena,” she told her fake girlfriend with fake acceptance, “he was just saying it. And yes, I am black.” 

The tension at the table was released and some laughter broke. Helena didn’t smile but stuffed a large piece of bread in her mouth, shoulders relaxing. 

“Yeah, exactly, promise I ain’t racist,” Luca was red in the face and sipped some of his water. 

“I like your nature,” another spoke to her over his mouthful, “I’m Franco Bertinelli, her father.” 

Dinah feigned surprise, “oh nice to meet you Sir. Helena’s told me so much about you.” 

His eyes turned a dangerous glint, “oh? What has she said?”

Dinah remembered that night she had first met an injured Helena and saved her. She saw Helena tense next to her, her chewing having slowed down. 

“You love the outdoors,” Dinah complimented. “Me too. I like bird watching.” 

He hummed, observing her with a gaze that gave way to nothing. 

“I am glad my daughter has someone,” Maria Bertinelli spoke up, disrupting the staring contest Dinah had with the Patri of the Bertinelli family. “Tell us about yourself Dinah.” 

She shared little bits of her story -- knowing full well they had already looked into her background and knew. Helena ate her food and Dinah complimented and thanked them politely. 

“Helena, Dinah, let's have a chat in my office.” Franco requested when dinner was done. 

Dinah followed Helena to the office, reaching for her hand. Helena looked surprised at the gesture and then leaned in to assure her, “he wants to know about Sionis. Don’t worry.” 

Sure enough, when Franco joined them and shut the wood doors for privacy that was what he brought up. 

“Helena tells me you will spy for us on Roman Sionis.” 

Dinah played the part of somewhat scared and in love, clutching Helena’s hand in show. 

“Yes… he asked me to spy on Helena too.”

“Hm. Your loyalty is with my daughter?”

“Of course, I love her.” 

“Then find out what his play is against us, keep your ear on it and I am fine with your relationship. Welcome to the family.”

It seemed like a bigger commitment than a fucking wedding, but this was the mafia. Dinah nodded, “thank you.” 

Helena escorted her back to her car after, eyes dead tired. 

Dinah pulled her into a kiss and was surprised when Helena kissed her back with more fervor, enough to make her let out a noise and stumble until her butt rested against the hood of her car. 

“You’re up to something,” Helena pulled back from her lips and pointed out. “You’re acting scared when you’re really not…”

Dinah felt her heart thud fast in her chest at being found out. 

“Maybe I’m just trying to stay alive, considering.” 

Helena stepped back. “I’ll find out, Dinah.”

“Catch me if you can,” Dinah taunted reaching forward to playfully shove Helena’s shoulder. 

Helena watched her drive off and went back inside, her mind was getting curiouser and curiouser with Dinah Lance. The woman was clearly resourceful and clever… serving some kind of agenda of her own. 

She wasn’t working for Sionis, Helena could tell Dinah had no loyalty there. Maybe another family, another party? In fact, she started to wonder if the men sent to collect her and Dinah saving her were on the same side, a set up to get her to trust Dinah? 

As her mind went through the idea, she decided to first sleep off the last thirty hours and get some much needed rest. 

\--

\--

“Special 87,” Dinah recited into the phone, sticking a pump of gasoline into her car and fueling up for the drive home from the Bertinelli mansion. 

“Montoya.” 

“It’s me.”

“How was lunch?”

“Made contact with Franco and Mari Bertinelli, other key players of the family were there.”

“Tread carefully. We have some intel on Sionis that checks out, you can pass it along to them.” 

Dinah nodded, relieved. She needed to prove resourceful to parry Franco’s trust. 

“And what of Maria?”

“She just asked me personal questions, very motherly.” 

“Be careful with that lady, Dinah. Until her son died she was involved in everything. She’s a trained interrogator.” 

“Got it.” 

Again, Dinah omitted some truth. She didn’t share Helena’s suspicious comment that she felt Dinah was ‘up to something.’ 

“Over.” She hung up and paid for her gas, buying a pack of cigarettes as she thought what to do next. 

She pulled out her phone and sent Helena a text. 

_ Let’s talk. I’ll share.  _


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some mafia shit and some sexy times!

Michael Mandragora blinked the haze out from his eyes as he woke up, a dull ache in his skull. It took him a moment until he realised he was in the front seat of his car and not getting a lap dance from a stripper. Confused he looked around and found that the car was parked on a…. 

“Railroad?”

“Michael.”

He yelped, realising there was a passenger behind him with a gun pointed to his head. There was a click as the cold metal pressed softer. 

“Fuck,” He felt the fear as his blood ran cold. That was Helena Bertinelli, the crossbow killer in his backseat. He had met her many times at family events and parties -- the woman used to date his psychotic cousin Anna after all. 

But not like this. He was dead. 

“Your Uncle sends his regards,” She told him, and he couldn’t help it. He wet himself in fear. 

“Please, Sionis threatened me!” He pleaded with her, “I have a wife and children.” 

“All of you Mandragora’s cheat,” she scoffed -- no doubt alluding to his cousin that everyone caught fucking the chaueffur, “You should have come clean.”

Helena then surprised him and lifted the pressure of the gun away from his skull. 

“Look, maybe we can work something out, Michael. Your Uncle wants you dead… you have any information on him I could use? The Bertinelli family would protect you.”

“Oh, thank you,” he breathed in relief, “yes -- he’s been meeting privately with your Aunt Graziella and doesn’t want your father to know.”

“Interesting… What did Sionis want intel on your Uncle for?”

“Just some drug schedules, he wants to frame you moving against my Uncle to create inner family war and power struggle.”

“Anything else?”

“I…” He realised then that she had put her gun away, and felt a rush of relief that he would live. “You promise you won’t kill me?”

“I promise.”

He nodded, “your girlfriend who sings for Sionis, Dinah Lance. I overheard him say she’s spying on you.”

Helena looked satisfied with him. “Alright I believe you.” 

Before Michael knew what was happening, something whacked him in the back of his head and he was out again. 

Helena checked the time on her phone. 

She exited the car, hearing the distant horn of the oncoming train, and walked away from the tracks with her phone to her ear. Within seconds, a train came and crushed Michael’s car, him still inside.

“Alfano, it’s done. Let Mandragora’s consigliere know.” 

“Do you need a lift?”

“No, I brought my bike today,” She said. “Thanks. Will catch up later tonight.”

He grunted and then hung up the phone. Helena walked over to her parked motorcycle, revving the engine and speeding off back to Gotham. 

//

“You okay Maria?” Franco was concerned, watching his wife of thirty-five years down her third olive martini of the hour. 

“I don’t want to be here, Franco. You can do this without me.”

“Your sister will be here soon,” he promised, reaching over to kiss her cheek. “I need you here to give me strength.” 

She scoffed at him, but said no further objections. Franco was the head of The Families yes, but everyone knew Maria had lifted him up. She had married him and not another, giving him leverage in the Panessa family. She had lifted them high to where they are now… until  
she had taken a step back after their son was killed years back in a brutal retaliation. 

“Ciao Maria, Franco,” Maria’s sister, Graziella Panessa stepped forward leaning down to kiss her sister’s cheek. Graziella was always wearing the fanciest dresses, today’s was green silk with a dazzling set of diamonds. Her bodyguards took point by the doors. 

“Ciao, sister.” Maria patted her sister’s arm and leaned back, as her sister sat down. 

They were enjoying cocktails at the restaurant owned by Stefano Galante, waiting for him to come out from his office where he had apologetically said he needed to deal with something. 

“Anyone got a cigarette?” Stefano Mandragora, the other notorious Stefano, let out a grunt as he squeezed his large belly into a chair. 

“For you, always,” Graziella placed a pack on the table, offering a quick wink with her charm. 

“No smoking in my restaurant, c’mon,” Galante sauntered over to the table, having come down from his office. “You’re gonna die Stefano, the way you smoke!”

The restaurant was entirely empty at the moment, only some henchmen and their bodyguards on the far end of the bar stood standing alert as a precaution. It was a monthly meeting between The Families. The Families consisted of the Sicillian mafia unit running Gotham, and they stayed in touch to be updated on crime. 

“I’ll probably catch a bullet,” Mandragora snorted in laughter, grabbing a cigarette from the pack Graziella had provided and lighting it up. 

“Let’s get this moving shall we, I got to meet Helena in an hour,” Franco interjected. 

“Your daughter did a good job on my nephew, that little rat!” Mandragora complimented through his exhale of smoke. “Wish she’d consider Anna a proper choice.” 

“C’mon, your daughter cheated on her, we got to move on from that and let the kids do their thing.”

“Eh, it would bring us closer, and you were all for it until she got some new girlfriend.” Mandragora tried again. “Show of good faith, Franco... Helena is going to succeed you. We have generations ahead of us and our families and I want assurance of my loyalty.” 

“Helena’s got a smart woman, got us an in with Sionis,” Franco bragged proudly, “and we can all agree that he’s our biggest thorn right now.” 

“And to be perfectly honest, Stefano, I don’t want Anna as a daughter-in-law,” Maria spoke up for the first time, her voice cold. “I want someone for Helena that can keep a clear head. This new girl has that.” 

Stefano huffed, reletning for now. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Had to ask, Anna is not leaving me alone about it.” 

“Problem is your daughter is spoiled and looks for her own needs before those of the family,” Galante told him off, taking a large swig of his red wine. “I told Gregorio to get a wife from our Sicily connections so we could increase our trade and he did! If Helena is using this woman for our Sionis problem, good for her. That’s business. Anna needs to learn business.” 

“Let’s change this conversation,” Graziella interjected, lighting up a cigarette of her own. “Helena has been leading our charge on Sionis, I want Claudio to help her.” 

“No,” Maria said with the same no-nonsense tone. “None of those kids near Helena, Graziella! Keep him away.” 

“It’s been years, Maria. They’re cousins. Family is everything.” 

“I’m with Maria on this one, I just had my nephew killed,” Mandragora grunted, “family is loyalty, not just blood.” 

“I have no kids of my own to succeed me for the Panessa name,” Graziella reasoned to her sister, “Claudio will be the one to do it.”

“Helena is my blood and I may be Bertinelli in name, but I am Panessa!” Maria’s temper was rising at her sister. “That makes Helena a Panessa. She’s your successor, our successor.” 

Graziella’s face showed she disagreed. “That would absolve the Panessa name to Bertinelli. No.” 

“I have faith in Helena, not in Claudio,” Galante pitched in. “Claudio was almost caught by the cops last year when he fucked up our gun shipment, Graziella.” 

“My point exactly on why he should learn from Helena!” 

“He would fuck it up!” Franco said. 

Their voices raised, as Italians tended to do when alcohol and mafia legacies were discussed. 

“Listen, while I agree that Helena is doing a fine job -- we can’t have Helena running our kids! Let Claudio go with her.” Mandragora roared. 

“You just tried to make her your daughter-in-law for that!” Galante accused him, “My Gregorio doesn’t have that kind of pull!”

“My son Roberto is succeeding me, not Anna! I was just trying to make peace!”

“Good because your daughter would fuck up worse than my nephew!” Maria accused him. 

“Hey hey hey,” Franco stood up, as Patri of The Families he was the unanimous leader with the most calm. “Come on now, we are family. We had a great year of business. Graziella, my daughter is leading us with Sionis because she’s the reason we no longer have to deal with the Falcone family!” 

It was dramatic, but a necessary reminder. Five years ago, Carmine Falcone declared war thinking he could make a power grab for everybody’s turf. Franco and Maria had the backing of Panessa because of their marriage, and the threat of Falcone united Galante and Mandragora with them. 

But it was Helena who killed Carmine and his wife Carla, took out his sons Alberto and Mario, and forced the remaining Falcone’s to work for them or die. Her ruthless attack earned her infamy, bodies and blood, and the street cred of ‘Crossbow Killer.’ 

“The fate of our families can’t lie in the hands of one girl,” Graziella reminded them. “If she’s going to take over for you, Franco, we all need a show of faith.” 

“Exactly,” Mandragora agreed. “And if she’s going to pick some lounge singer who ain’t even Italian over my Anna, we need to figure out another compromise.” 

“And you, Stefano?” Franco asked Galante, “you agree?”

“No, I’m with you. I don’t need any further assurances.” 

Franco sighed, watching as his wife demanded another martini. 

//

“Here you go Joe,” Dinah handed the homeless man lying by her apartment stoop a hot coffee and a sandwich. She knew his order from the food cart nearby. 

“Oh you Angel,” he took it and smiled. “Thank you Dinah!” 

She spared a quick wink and stood up tall to enter her building until the clearing of a throat interrupted her. 

“Dinah.”

She turned, surprised to see Helena. Last time she had seen her was Sunday and it was now Wednesday -- her day off. She was supposed to be making contact with Renee in an hour, as in actual physical contact. 

“Helena… hey.”

“Can I come inside?”

Dinah looked behind Helena, seeing a motorcycle that explained the helmet the taller woman was clutching. She looked really nice, a long black coat and an almost shy smirk on her lips. 

With a nod, she opened the door and watched Helena lead them up the three flights of stairs and right to her door, 3E. 

“You remember.”

Helena’s cheeks turned red and she stepped aside, letting Dinah unlock the door before following her inside. 

“You girlfriend should probably see you on her day off,” Helena said out loud, stepping into Dinah’s space and observing her move to the kitchen. 

“Okay… you want something to drink, babe?” She sarcastically drew out babe, smiling. 

“You wanted to talk.” Helena referred to their last text exchange, which agreed in them meeting later this week. 

“No foreplay, huh?” Dinah smirked at her, grabbing two glasses from the kitchen cupboard. “Is that how you fuck too?”

The new shade of red that took over Helena’s face was hilarious, and Dinah had to mentally remind herself that this was Helena Bertinelli -- the same woman that shot an arrow through every Falcone in Gotham. 

“Do you ever take things seriously?”

“More than you’d think,” Dinah poured them some iced tea from her fridge and sat down on her couch, offering a glass out to Helena. “I made it myself.”

Helena hesitated but took the glass before sitting down on the couch next to Dinah. 

This was the same couch Dinah had first kissed her on, months ago, and it seemed they both shared the memory when they broke eye contact and took long sips from their drinks. 

“It’s delicious,” Helena said quietly. “So...”

“Sionis has a guy, Victor Zsasz,” Dinah started slowly. 

“Yeah, he’s a sick fucker,” Helena relaxed into the couch and put her helmet in between their bodies before turning her head to Dinah. 

Dinah met her gaze with a hatred she did not hold back, “Zsasz killed my parents.” 

Helena paused, surprised. “Your parents were mugged…”

“Killed. By Zsasz. To make it look like a mugging.”

“How do you know?”

“I won’t tell you,” Dinah said, not holding back on her honesty. “I don’t really trust you, Helena. Not with something that personal. But you could tell I have my own agenda, now you know why I work for Sionis. I want to get Zsasz but I know he was just a hitman. I don’t know who ordered the hit. I’m there to find out everything.” 

Helena put her iced tea down, “and you went to that after party with my brother because?”

“Because he had a loose tongue and I thought some alcohol and wanting to impress me meant he’d give up something.” 

Helena seemed to relax at her answer, “that makes sense. Pino has a lot to learn about being careful… and you’re telling me all this because you know I want to take out Sionis.”

“Which makes us on the same side of this, whatever this is, for now,” Dinah agreed, putting down her drink as well. 

“Hm. You’re a good fighter,” Helena complimented her. “When you saved my life, made me wonder where you picked up that skill.” 

“Boxing. My uncle Teddy owns a gym, taught me and trained me -- but you already know that.” 

“I know.” Helena confessed, not surprised Dinah called her out on it. 

They stayed looking at one another, and then Dinah checked the clock. Renee would be over in fifty minutes. 

“So. What’s our next move Huntress?” Dinah observed the other woman. 

Helena sighed, “well… I have more insight into how Sionis works now… he needs you to tell him something of substance so he believes you’re spying on me... Tell him Mandragora wants more money and is upset with me… I want to see what he does about it.”

“You want him to approach Mandragora?”

“Yes.” 

“You mafia people,” Dinah shook her head. “What does that have to do with Sionis?”

“I thought that you might have staged that attempt on my life to appear as my saviour… I have no clue who did it, I need to poke and find out who did it and why they chose to do it in Sionis’s turf. Sionis wants me dead, sure, but that was someone who wants me dead and wants to make it look like Sionis did it.”

Dinah understood, then. It wasn’t just that Helena needed to take out Roman Sionis for the mafia, she suspected a traitor in the mafia and intended to find out who wanted her dead from her supposed comrades. 

“I think…” Dinah had insight Helena did not, and she was unsure if she should use it. It may either make Helena trust her more or suspect her more, but with these kinds of high-stake games, it was all or nothing.

Helena looked at her expectantly, “you have a theory?”

“Yes. I think it was Galante.” Dinah told her, watching as Helena’s face displayed her disbelief of that. 

“Stefano Galante?”

“Yes.”

Helena schooled her surprise, “why would you think that?”

“Sionis had a chauffeur, Kurtis Card. He was sleeping with Galante’s son.”

“No, I would know if that were true,” Helena said in disbelief, “I tortured everything out of his chauffeur last week before I killed him. He never mentioned screwing Gregorio Galante.” 

“I saw them myself,” Dinah told her, omitting that she had been tailing the chauffeur for the CIA. The driver had gone missing and now Dinah knew why -- Helena had taken care of him. 

Helena’s grim defiance at this fact turned into anger. “Fuck.”

Dinah checked the clock again, 35 minutes until Renee showed up. 

“You need to be somewhere?” Helena asked, having followed her gaze. “I can go.” 

“No,” Dinah rushed out, cursing herself for making it obvious she was checking the time. The last thing she needed right now was Helena to leave while giving all of this intel. 

“Oh… okay,” Helena fidgeted with her fingers and they sat in silence. 

“So…” Dinah turned her body more to Helena, “how’s your family doing with you dating a black woman?”

“Fuck my uncle,” Helena rolled her eyes and shyly said it, a far cry from her recounting of mafia drama, “sorry about him. He’s an idiot.”

Dinah laughed, “it was kind of hot, you playing protective girlfriend...” 

The energy changed instantly. Dinah saw Helena’s eyes darken as they took in her bare arms and revealing chest, and she knew her own eyes were no better. 

Why did it thrill her, this mutual attraction? It was a good idea to sleep with her, to get intel for the CIA…Hell, everyone already thought they were because of her big mouth which was how she ended up here, and Renee believed it too.

“You’ve killed before, haven’t you?” Helena asked her, mirroring her body. 

“What?” Dinah had thought Helena was going to kiss her, not ask her that kind of question. “Why do you ask that?”

“You’re not afraid of me. People who know who I am are afraid of me,” Helena raised a brow like a challenge, “the guy I killed before coming here took one look at me and pissed himself. But you… you keep kissing me.” 

Oh. That's what she meant. 

“I’m not afraid of you,” Dinah told her truthfully. “You’re an open book to me. A very, very beautiful book.” 

Helena looked flattered and Dinah knew it was time to do something about their attraction. 

She stood up and reached an arm down, giving Helena an expectant look. Helena took the offered hand and allowed herself to be tugged up to stand. 

Dinah pushed the lapels of her coat back, watching the bare shoulders that were revealed underneath the pale, creamy skin. Dinah touched the bare skin on display, fingers lightly pulling the sleeves down until the jacket crumpled to the floor. 

She looked up and found Helena’s eyes on her lips, a nervous gulp from the taller woman sent butterflies of anticipation in Dinah’s chest. 

“You’re nervous,” she said to Helena, smug. 

Helena grabbed her hips and pulled her in tight, surprising Dinah. “You want to have sex with me, don’t you?”

Dinah curved one arm around Helena’s neck, her other hand gripping a bicep and digging her fingers in sharply. 

“I have killed before, yes,” Dinah told her in a whisper by her ear. “In self-defense. And yes, I do want to have sex with you… but don’t act like I’m the vixen when you knew it was my day off and we were supposed to meet tomorrow night.” 

Helena was kissing her then, hungry lips and a fierce moan of pleasure. Dinah gasped into her before kissing her back. They touched and tugged at hair, and Helena was suddenly pressing her against a wall and pinning her arms above her head. Lips ravaged her neck, and Dinah couldn’t think any more, she could only feel.

Giving in to the desire to have this woman she had been thinking about for months was less problematic than it should have been, and she would deal with the repercussions later. 

“Wait,” Dinah urged before moaning when Helena's nipped under her ear at a sensitive spot, “wait…”

Helena leaned back, cheeks flushed and breathing hard. She released Dinah’s wrists and asked in a worried tone, “what? Sorry, was that too fast?”

“No just -- let’s move this to my bedroom,” Dinah suggested leaning forward to kiss her, assuring her. 

Helena melted into her kiss and blindly followed her to her bedroom, watching Dinah close the door behind them with her foot. 

“If we’re going to do this,” Dinah told her, “is it just scratching an itch we are both clearly sick of feeling, or what? Your whole family thinks I’m your girlfriend.”

“Then be my girlfriend,” Helena said, “until you don’t want to be. If we do this or for however long we do this, you can not sleep with anyone else.” 

“I won’t,” Dinah promised. “That’s too skanky even for me.”

“Then nothing changes,” Helena promised. “Just that I can finally see what you look like naked.” 

Helena gave her a small smile then, a criminally sexy one that Dinah knew was the least of her crimes. She lifted the sleeveless black shirt she had on and tossed it aside, showing a small, pert chest that was covered in a lacy black bra. Dinah bit her bottom lip, admiring the feminine lace on a body that boasted fit muscles. Helena reached around and undid her bra next, letting it fall to the floor so she was topless in only her jeans. 

Dinah moved forward and kissed her, giving into every lustful thought she felt, raking her hands through soft wavy hair and letting her body be lifted up so her legs could be wrapped around a slim waist. 

Fuck, that show of strength pressed down on her kinky button and she let out an appreciative moan. 

Her back hit her mattress as they tumbled into the bed, but their lips stayed together with a vigor that was impatient and needy. 

Helena helped her out of her shirt, lifting it up quickly so they could keep kissing. Dinah removed the straps of her bra as Helena unclasped it with swift hands, and they moved together in a grind of hips. Dinah reached down for the button Helena’s jeans, helping her kick them off, and soon they were naked and it felt incredible to move and rut and forget the world for a few blissful moments. 

Dinah pushed her relentless mouth back by strong shoulders before twisting them around so she was sitting astride Helena’s hips, able to keep her wild lover in check and catch her breath. 

Helena’s hands came up in a gentle caress, palming her hips, waist and breasts. 

“You’re beautiful,” Helena told her, cupping her breasts and leaning up as Dinah leaned down, another kiss exchanged, much less desperate and quick this time. 

“Fuck,” Dinah groaned, rotating her hips as Helena played with her sensitive nipples. As Helena’s long fingers teased to enter her, Dinah lost her mind. 

\--

A loud knocking on the door startled Dinah from her position where she had been sleeping face down. 

She jumped, remembering herself and where she was. She turned to her side, finding a fully dressed Helena watching her with a soft smile. 

“Hey,” Helena teased her, “you passed out after your ograsm… didn’t want to disturb you.”

Dinah grinned, hoping the panic in her face was not obvious. Renee was here, and she had fucking passed out after a quickie. How fucking embarassing. 

“This is fucking embrarssing,” she hid her face. 

She held her bedsheet up to her naked torso and shifted to sit up, looking shyly at Helena. “Listen--” 

“That was nice--” Helena was saying at the same time, but paused when the loud knocking continued. 

“Can you grab that?” Dinah asked her knowing Renee would be able to handle it, “probably my landlord.” 

Helena nodded and went to go answer the door. Dinah quickly scrambled for some fresh underwear and sweats, hearing the door open and distant chatter. She knew Renee would play it cool and understand there was no time for Dinah to have warned her Helena was coming by. 

Still, there was something unsettling about her two realities facing one another in her apartment. 

She found Helena stepping aside for Renee to be visible and Dinah crossed her arms, aware that Renee could tell from her lack of a bra and bed hair that Dinah had just been fucked. They were CIA, they were trained to read these kinds of situations. 

“Are you Dinah Lance?” Renee asked her, moving her coat aside to show a badge and a side piece. 

Dinah froze -- Renee’s cover was a fucking police officer? Seriously?

“Yeah… officer?”

“Montoya,” Renee said. 

Their past missions where Renee was her handler, Renee had never revealed any personal information beyond that of casually mentioning her ex-girlfriend was a lawyer. 

“Officer Montoya,” Dinah played along, “what uh, how can I help?”

“I’m looking into a missing person’s case,” Renee said, “can I ask a few questions? Come inside?”

“Right. Sure.” 

Helena stepped aside, letting the officer in and closing the door behind them. 

“And you are?” Renee asked, feigning ignorance as she turned to Helena. 

“Her girlfriend,” Helena walked over and sat down where she had been before, reaching for her iced tea that had only been sipped once and taking another sip. 

“Right,” Renee opened up a notepad, not pressing further, “Miss Lance, you work as a singer at The Black Mask, correct?”

“Yes I do,” Dinah adjusted her arms, crossing them tighter. 

“The owner, Mr. Roman Sionis, contacted us and reported his driver missing.” 

The driver Helena just confessed to taking care of. 

Dinah sighed, “I don’t know how much I can help. I sing there…”

“But you know the man I’m talking about?”

“Yes.” 

“Any suspicious behaviour or people visit him?”

“No, I would only see him with Mr. Sionis sometimes…”

“Okay,” Renee passed her a business card, “this is mostly just a formality with all the co-workers, if you can think of anything let me know.” 

Dinah walked her out to the door, opening it. She exchanged a look with Renee when her back was turned to Helena and Renee gave her a secret nod, letting her know to relax and carry on. Renee left and Dinah schooled her emotions before turning back around. 

“Roman reported him missing,” Helena chewed her lip, “interesting.” 

Dinah grabbed her iced tea from earlier and drank it in one long gulp to help herself relax. She laughed when she saw Helena’s eyes on her, amused. 

“So… I really enjoyed that,” Dinah referred to their tryst, changing the subject from murder. 

“Me too,” Helena stood up again, taking a thoughtful sip of her glass and watching Dinah’s lips. “I would like to do that again.”

Dinah told herself it was for the mission and stepped closer, sultry eyes as she reached forward and took Helena's glass out of her hands and put them down on the coffee table. 

“That can be arranged,” she offered, raising her eyebrow suggestively. “In fact, I want to thank you for that amazing orgasm… maybe with my tongue?”

Helena leaned forward and kissed her. 

\--

Dinah slipped out of her bed, quiet as she could. Helena stirred in her sleep but stayed there, a soft snore escaping her before she was quiet again. The fact that she had allowed herself to sleep over was a big show of her current trust in Dinah, and Dinah was relieved to have assured it. 

It was for the mission, she told herself. But it had never been mission protocol to enjoy sex so much she craved it again. 

She tiptoed to the kitchen, grabbing her night robe and tying it around her waist before grabbing some milk from her fridge and lifting her cell phone to her ear. 

“Special 87,” Dinah whispered. 

“Montoya,” came the instant reply, showing Montoya had been waiting on edge for her to make contact. 

“She’s spending the night,” Dinah whispered. “She came over unplanned.” 

“Hm,” Renee hummed, “call me when you’re alone tomorrow. Good job securing trust with the family. Over.” 

Renee hung up and Dinah let her phone clatter on the counter top before pouring a glass of milk for herself. 

She looked up, seeing Helena approach from the bedroom with nothing but a sheet around her shoulders and adorable sleepy eyes. 

“Can’t sleep?” Helena asked her, moving in close and watching her drink the milk. 

“Got a little hungry and thirsty, our second round was significantly more draining, wouldn’t you say? Want some?” She asked her fake, not quite fake, grey-area girlfriend. 

Helena’s smile was proud but she shook her head, “I’m okay thanks. Just a light sleeper. Heard some noise.” 

Dinah giggled, “another benefit of having The Huntress as my pretend girlfriend, hmm?” 

“Real girlfriend,” Helena corrected her, sounding a little possessive even, “until I take care of Sionis and we stop having sex, that is...” 

“Right,” Dinah tried to ignore the pitter-patter of her heart and how confused that declaration made her feel. “My real girlfriend.” 

Helena looked pleased and leaned over, kissing her cheek once. “I’m going back to bed. Goodnight, Dinah.” 

“Night,” Dinah watched her disappear and closed her eyes in quiet frustration. Helena was clearly catching feelings, and Dinah was okay with that. 

The same way she was okay with using CIA intel to help Helena realise Galante could very well be the man trying to have her killed…

Dinah was catching something too, and it was not very professional or strictly sexual. Fuck.


End file.
